Posts tagged ‘death’

There are two things you and I were never designed to experience: death and rejection.

That is why they both feel so foreign and hurt so much: they are utterly contrary to what we were made for.

When God created the world, everything in it was “very good” (Gen. 1:31). Neither physical death nor the death of relationships were part of his perfect design. But when mankind fell into sin, both experiences invaded our lives (Gen. 3:16-24).

Adam and Eve rejected God and passed on a legacy of physical and relational death to their posterity. Cain rejected Abel as he slew him. Jacob rejected Leah and infected his household with jealousy. His sons rejected Joseph and broke their father’s heart.

And so the narrative goes throughout Scripture … including the dark night when Peter rejected Jesus as he walked alone to his death.

Rejection Always Hurts

Since we were not designed for relational rejection, it always hurts.

Like the time I went to tell a high school girlfriend that I thought we should stop dating. But before I could share my thoughts, she said, “Ken, I think we should break up.”

Was I relieved to know she had arrived at the same conclusion? Yes … but that feeling was dwarfed by the pain of realizing that she no longer wanted to spend time with me. Even though I planned to end the relationship, I cringed when she beat me to the punch.

Most of us have had experiences that hurt far more. A long-time friend turns his back on you. A stranger disparages your race or family. An employer demotes or fires you. A parent or child won’t return your calls. Worst of all, a spouse says, “I don’t want to live with you anymore.” The closer the relationship, the greater the pain, and the more rejection feels like death.

Even if we avoid these kinds of “mega-rejections,” we’re often wounded more than we like to admit by interactions that still feel like personal rejection.

A married child vacations more often with her in-laws than with you. A pastor fails to visit when you’re sick or struggling. A church member says your sermons aren’t feeding him anymore. A boss dismisses a proposal or promotes someone else instead of you. A spouse prefers to work late or watch television rather than enjoy your company.

We try to act like these things don’t bother us, but they do. Because they feel like rejection.

Yes, it’s also because we place unrealistic expectations on others. And because we depend way too much on the attention and affirmation of others. Any time we make an idol out of a relationship—by looking to other people for the meaning and fulfillment that only God can provide—we set ourselves up for grief.

But no matter how close we are to God, it will still hurt when other people reject us or things we value. David knew God intimately, but he was still devastated when a close friend betrayed him (Ps. 55:12-14). Paul saw Jesus face-to-face and consecrated his very life to him, and yet he was grieved over and over when churches he’d planted rejected his teaching (Gal. 4:19-20).

We are simply not designed to experience broken relationships, so every time they come, it hurts.

Rejection Can Be Reversed

Let’s look at an illustration of this dynamic. October Sky is a movie based on the real life story of Homer Hickam, a coal miner’s son who was inspired by the launch of Sputnik 1 in 1957 to take up rocketry. In doing so, he rejected his father’s wish that he follow in his steps as a foreman in the mines. As a result, his father pulled away from him, leaving Homer unsupported as he struggled to follow his dreams. Rejection often begets rejection.

But when Homer faced an overwhelming crisis, his father made a great personal sacrifice to help him win a national science fair. As a result, Homer received a college scholarship and earned a meeting with Dr. Wernher Von Braun, the father of modern rocketry.

When the young man returned home, he tried to reach out to his father, as this poignant scene shows. Watch carefully and you’ll see how difficult it is to repair the deep hurts of mutual rejection. (If the first video screen does not appear below, click here.)

What did you see? A boy celebrating a great achievement and longing to share it with his father? A father putting up walls because he not only felt rejected but also jealous of the famous man who had inspired his son? A boy still trying unsuccessfully to bond with his father?

All too many relationships end this way. But it’s not inevitable, as the final scene in this movie illustrates. (If the second video screen does not appear below, click here.)

The climax of this movie is not the flawless launch of a rocket. Nor is it a meeting with a famous scientist, a full-ride scholarship, or Homer’s eventual career with NASA.

The climax to this story, like all great stories, is entirely relational. It’s a father conquering his own hurt, jealousy, and fear to support his son’s dreams. It’s a son choking up when he sees his dad in the crowd and then walking toward him with a boyish smile to invite him to launch the rocket.

But the ultimate climax is a father overcoming his natural inhibitions, as well as the mistakes and pains of the past, putting his arm around his son, looking him tenderly in the eye, and sending the wordless message, “I’m sorry for rejecting you; I was wrong. Let’s put it behind us and build a new relationship.”

Do you sometimes set yourself up for rejection through unrealistic expectations, or by depending too much on the attention and affirmation of others? How would drawing nearer to Jesus reduce the grip of these desires? (see Phil. 4:11-13; 2Cor. 9:8)

What’s the most painful rejection you’ve ever experienced? Why did it hurt so much? How might God be using that experience to refine your character, to deepen your dependence on him, and to give you more compassion for others who have had a similar experience?

Is there someone who may feel rejected by you, whether you meant it or not? How can you draw on the example of Homer and his father, and, more importantly, the example and power of Christ, to seek reconciliation? (Matt. 5:23-24; Rom. 5:8; Eph. 4:1-3; Phil. 2:3-4)

There are times when we are legitimately compelled to disagree with others’ values or goals, to end a dating relationship, to quit a job or terminate an employee, or to leave a church. When doing so, what can we do to reduce the sense that we are rejecting others as persons, and to emphasize the fact that we still see them as being gifted by God and precious to him? (see Matt. 7:12)

Some people will feel rejected simply because we give them little or no attention, often because we’re so preoccupied with our own agendas. One way to overcome this tendency is to develop the habit of constantly practicing the SERVE principle –when you walk into the office each morning, when you greet your family in the evening, and when you go to church Sunday morning (and are tempted to gravitate to your comfortable circle of friends instead of reaching out to others).

Dear Lord Jesus, we all know this verse answers the question, “What’s the shortest verse in the Bible?” But it’s also a candidate for the most profound and comforting verse in the Scriptures. Your aching and compassionate tears, shed outside of Lazarus’s tomb, are one of the greatest showers that ever fell upon the face of the earth.

You knew that within a matter of moments, your friend would breathe again, walk again, and that you’d get to enjoy his company again. And yet you wept convulsively in the presence of his death. It was well spoken, by those honored to see your sacred fury and great sadness, “See how he loved him!” (John 11:36) And you love us with the same tenderness and passion.

Jesus, I’m so thankful to know you as a tenderhearted Savior—one who comforts us in a variety of expressions of death—loss of life and loss of love; the death of dreams and longings, hope and trust; the burial of what once was and what may never be.

No one hates death more than you, noone. No one feels its horrid implications more profoundly. No one grieves its ugly violation more deeply. No one longs for the day of “no more death” (Rev. 21:4) more earnestly than you. No one has done more to secure death’s obliteration.

Perhaps some of your tears outside of Lazarus’s tomb were offered knowing he’d have to go through the whole rotten dying process again—such is your hatred of death.

Jesus, today I’m so thankful we know you as “the resurrection and the life” (John 11:25). Your death was the death of death itself—the last enemy (1 Cor. 15:26). And because of your resurrection, we sing in advance of our resurrection, “O death, where is your victory? O death, where is your sting?” (1 Cor. 15:55) Death is now working backwards, with a view to the Day when all things will be new forever.

How we praise you. How we exalt you. How we rest our oftentimes heavy, confused, grieving hearts in your loving hands. So very Amen I pray, in your grave-robbing name.

I saw this in a new place as I was memorizing my way through Philippians again. I had never noticed before the emotional contrast between Philippians 2:17–18 and 2:27.

An Invitation to Rejoice

In Philippians 2:17–18, Paul is describing the possibility of his own death as “drink offering on the sacrificial offering” of their faith. He is willing to die in the service of strengthening and purifying their faith.

Then he says, if that happens, “I am glad and rejoice with you all. Likewise you also should be glad and rejoice with me” (verse 18). Not only does he rejoice at the prospect of his own death, but he tells them to rejoice with him.

He already told them why he rejoices at the prospect of his death: “My desire is to depart and be with Christ, for that is far better” (Philippians 1:23). Presumably, that is why he thinks they should rejoice also. They love Paul. So when Paul is “with Christ” that will be “far better.”

Jesus spoke this same way to his disciples: “If you loved me, you would have rejoiced, because I am going to the Father, for the Father is greater than I” (John 14:28). The Father in splendor is greater than the Son in suffering. What a liberation was coming when the Son’s work here is done and he returns to the Father’s glory! So, he says, if you love me, rejoice at my departure.

Experiencing Intense Sorrow

But that is not the whole story. Ten verses later in Philippians 2 Paul praises Epaphroditus because “he nearly died for the work of Christ” (verse 30). But then he did not die. And Paul is glad. Here’s what he says: “Indeed he was ill, near to death. But God had mercy on him, and not only on him but on me also, lest I should have sorrow upon sorrow” (verse 27).

God had mercy on Paul, lest he should have sorrow upon sorrow. In other words, he did not let Epaphroditus die so that Paul would not have that grief on top of all his other burdens.

So when Paul said, “Rejoice with me,” at the prospect of his own death (Philippians 2:18), that was not the whole emotional story. Paul would have experienced “grief upon grief” if Epaphroditus had died. And this is not because Epaphroditus was unprepared to die. He was as ready as Paul: “Honor such men, for he nearly died for the work of Christ” (2:30).

The Complex Harmony

What should we conclude from this?

We should conclude that our sorrows at the death of a believer are joyful sorrows, and our rejoicing at the death of a believer is a sorrowful rejoicing. There is nothing hopeless about the sorrow. And there is nothing flippant about the joy. The joy hurts. And the sorrow is softened with invincible hope.

This is why one of the most common watchwords of the Christian life is “sorrowful yet always rejoicing” (2 Corinthians 6:10). Sorrow and joy are not merely sequential. They are simultaneous. This is not emotional schizophrenia. This is the complex harmony of the Christian soul.

Therefore, when a Christian dies, don’t begrudge the tears. And don’t belittle the joy in the lover’s eyes.

In the Psalms, David speaks to three problems that are still with us. They are moral and spiritual problems, and only moral and spiritual answers can solve those problems.

There is a time for everything, and a season for every activity under heaven: a time to be born and a time to die. ~ Ecclesiastes 3:1-2, NIV.

The technological revolutions of today stagger our imaginations. We try to peer into the future, and if we could actually see what the world will be like 10 or 20 years from now, I’m sure that we would be overwhelmed.

This is not the first time, however, that the human race has undergone a technological revolution.

Three thousand years ago when a young man by the name of David became king of Israel, Israel was divided and backward, and was oppressed by its neighbors. Israel was little more than a cluster of primitive tribes living in tents, and people were barely scratching a living from the land.

But 40 years later when King David died, all that had changed. In only one generation Israel had become one of the strongest, most prosperous nations in the Near East. In fact, in those few decades, Israel experienced one of the greatest periods of social and economic progress in its history.

What happened?

Certainly David was a man with exceptional leadership ability, and he had the favor of God.

But there was another reason: King David introduced into Israel a new technology.

About two centuries earlier the Hittites had discovered the secret of smelting and processing iron. Slowly the skill spread, but for many decades Israel’s enemies deliberately kept the knowledge away from Israel.

But David changed all that, and he introduced the Iron Age to Israel. Now, instead of using crude tools made of sticks and stones, Israel had plows, sickles, hoes, axes and other implements made of iron. And in the course of that one generation, Israel was completely changed.

The introduction of iron, in some ways, had an impact on David’s day much as the microchip is having today.

King David reflected on what was happening. David not only was a great ruler, he also was a great poet and a philosopher and a musician.

A technological revolution had changed the lives of his people. But as David looked at life, he realized that there were several problems that technology had not solved.

In the Psalms, David speaks to a number of these problems. And these problems are still with us, for they are moral and spiritual problems, and only moral and spiritual answers can solve those problems.

I want to address three of these problems.

HUMAN EVIL

The first problem that King David knew he could not solve is the problem of human evil. Something is wrong. We can’t get along with other people, even in our own families. We find ourselves in the paralyzing grip of self-destructive habits that we can’t break. Racism, injustice and violence sweep our world, bringing a tragic harvest of heartache and death. Even the most sophisticated among us seems powerless to break the cycle.

The Bible says that the problem is within us—within our hearts and our souls.(1) We are separated from God, and we need to have our souls restored—something that only God can do.

The British philosopher Bertrand Russell was not a religious man, but on one point he agreed with Jesus when he said, “It is in our hearts that the evil lies, and it is from our hearts that it must be plucked out.”(3)

Albert Einstein once pessimistically declared, “It is easier to denature plutonium than to denature the evil spirit of man.”(4)

Many people have puzzled over this. People take beneficial technological advances and twist them into something corrupting. Brilliant people devise computer viruses that bring down entire information systems. But the problem is not the technology; the problem is the person using the technology.

King David himself knew the depths of evil in his own soul. He couldn’t free himself from personal sins, which included adultery and murder.(5) Yet King David, seeking God’s forgiveness, said, “You restore my soul.”(6)

The Bible teaches that we do not simply have bodies and minds, we also have souls. Our souls are that part of us that yearns for meaning in life and that seeks something beyond this life. Our souls are that part of us that yearns for God. Even people who have no religious beliefs wonder at times if there is something more.

Thomas Edison said, “When you see everything that happens in the world of science and in the working of the universe, you cannot deny that there is a ‘Captain on the bridge.'”(7)

(2.) HUMAN SUFFERING

The second problem that King David realized he could not solve is the problem of human suffering. The Bible says, “Man is born to trouble as surely as sparks fly upward.”(8)

Yes, to be sure, science has done much to push back certain types of human suffering, but think of the suffering that we still face in the world today: Inner-city children trapped in cycles of despair. Children of divorce described increasingly by researchers as carrying deep and lasting wounds. Orphans and desperate children, around the world, torn apart by war.

And among those of us who are the most protected against poverty and violence, families self-destruct, friends betray us, psychological pressures bear down on us.

Why do we suffer? That is an age-old question that none of us can fully answer.

King David too suffered heartbreak. His own deceit caused the death of his infant son. His children were involved with rape, revenge and murder. His son Absalom led a revolt against him.

Yet David, again and again, in the most agonizing circumstances, could turn to God and say, “The Lord is my shepherd.”(9)

(3.) DEATH

The third problem that King David knew he could not solve is the problem of death.(10) Some people find it difficult even to comprehend death, and most people live as if they were never going to die. But death is inevitable.

The writer of Ecclesiastes declared, “There is a time for everything, and a season for every activity under heaven: a time to be born and a time to die.”(11)

Several years ago a university student asked me what was the greatest surprise of my life, and I replied, “Its brevity.”

And today in our world we need a moral dimension more than ever. Without it, the 21st century could become the bloodiest century in the history of the human race. It could be the last century. But it does not need to be this way.

Wernher von Braun said, “It has frequently been stated that scientific enlightenment and religious belief are incompatible. [But] technology and ethics are sisters.”(12)

Blaise Pascal has been called one of the architects of modern civilization. He was a brilliant scientist at the frontiers of mathematics, even when he was a teenager. He is viewed by many as the founder of the probability theory and as the creator of the first digital calculator.

Pascal explored in depth our dilemmas of human evil, human suffering and death. People can achieve extraordinary heights in science, the arts and human enterprise. Yet people also are full of anger, hypocrisy and self-hatred. Pascal saw this as a remarkable mixture of genius and self-delusion.

On November 23, 1654, Pascal had a profound religious experience. He wrote these words: “May I never be separated from Him. … Total and sweet renunciation. Total submission to Jesus Christ. Eternally in joy.”(13)

Pascal came to believe that only the love and the grace of God could bring us back into harmony with God. Pascal experienced it in a way that went beyond scientific observation and reason. It was he who wrote the words that are now well-known: “The heart has its reasons, of which reason knows nothing.”(14)

For Pascal, scientific knowledge paled beside knowledge of God. When Pascal died at age 39, he was ready to face God.

King David lived to be 70 years old; yet he too had to face death: “Even though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil, for you are with me.”(15) This was David’s answer to the three dilemmas of human evil, human suffering and death.

It can be your answer as well as you seek the living God and allow Him to fill your life and give you hope for the future.

The technological revolutions of today stagger our imaginations. We try to peer into the future, and if we could actually see what the world will be like 10 or 20 years from now, I’m sure that we would be overwhelmed.

This is not the first time, however, that the human race has undergone a technological revolution.

Three thousand years ago when a young man by the name of David became king of Israel, Israel was divided and backward, and was oppressed by its neighbors. Israel was little more than a cluster of primitive tribes living in tents, and people were barely scratching a living from the land.

But 40 years later when King David died, all that had changed. In only one generation Israel had become one of the strongest, most prosperous nations in the Near East. In fact, in those few decades, Israel experienced one of the greatest periods of social and economic progress in its history.

What happened? Certainly David was a man with exceptional leadership ability, and he had the favor of God.

But there was another reason: King David introduced into Israel a new technology.

About two centuries earlier the Hittites had discovered the secret of smelting and processing iron. Slowly the skill spread, but for many decades Israel’s enemies deliberately kept the knowledge away from Israel.

But David changed all that, and he introduced the Iron Age to Israel. Now, instead of using crude tools made of sticks and stones, Israel had plows, sickles, hoes, axes and other implements made of iron. And in the course of that one generation, Israel was completely changed.

The introduction of iron, in some ways, had an impact on David’s day much as the microchip is having today.

King David reflected on what was happening. David not only was a great ruler, he also was a great poet and a philosopher and a musician.

A technological revolution had changed the lives of his people. But as David looked at life, he realized that there were several problems that technology had not solved.

In the Psalms, David speaks to a number of these problems. And these problems are still with us, for they are moral and spiritual problems, and only moral and spiritual answers can solve those problems.

I want to address three of these problems.

Human Evil
The first problem that King David knew he could not solve is the problem of human evil. Something is wrong. We can’t get along with other people, even in our own families. We find ourselves in the paralyzing grip of self-destructive habits that we can’t break. Racism, injustice and violence sweep our world, bringing a tragic harvest of heartache and death. Even the most sophisticated among us seems powerless to break the cycle.

The Bible says that the problem is within us—within our hearts and our souls (see Jer. 17:9). We are separated from God, and we need to have our souls restored—something that only God can do.

The British philosopher Bertrand Russell was not a religious man, but on one point he agreed with Jesus when he said, “It is in our hearts that the evil lies, and it is from our hearts that it must be plucked out.”

Albert Einstein once pessimistically declared, “It is easier to denature plutonium than to denature the evil spirit of man.”

Many people have puzzled over this. People take beneficial technological advances and twist them into something corrupting. Brilliant people devise computer viruses that bring down entire information systems. But the problem is not the technology; the problem is the person using the technology.

King David himself knew the depths of evil in his own soul. He couldn’t free himself from personal sins, which included adultery and murder (see 2 Sam. 11:27). Yet King David, seeking God’s forgiveness, said, “You restore my soul” (cf. Ps. 23:3).

The Bible teaches that we do not simply have bodies and minds, we also have souls. Our souls are that part of us that yearns for meaning in life and that seeks something beyond this life. Our souls are that part of us that yearns for God. Even people who have no religious beliefs wonder at times if there is something more.

Thomas Edison said, “When you see everything that happens in the world of science and in the working of the universe, you cannot deny that there is a ‘Captain on the bridge.'”

Human Suffering
The second problem that King David realized he could not solve is the problem of human suffering. The Bible says, “Man is born to trouble as surely as sparks fly upward” (Job 5:7).

Yes, to be sure, science has done much to push back certain types of human suffering, but think of the suffering that we still face in the world today: Inner-city children trapped in cycles of despair. Children of divorce described increasingly by researchers as carrying deep and lasting wounds. Orphans and desperate children, around the world, torn apart by war.

And among those of us who are the most protected against poverty and violence, families self-destruct, friends betray us, psychological pressures bear down on us.

Why do we suffer? That is an age-old question that none of us can fully answer.

King David too suffered heartbreak. His own deceit caused the death of his infant son. His children were involved with rape, revenge and murder. His son Absalom led a revolt against him.

Yet David, again and again, in the most agonizing circumstances, could turn to God and say, “The Lord is my shepherd” (Ps. 23:1).

Death
The third problem that King David knew he could not solve is the problem of death (see Ps. 55:4-5). Some people find it difficult even to comprehend death, and most people live as if they were never going to die. But death is inevitable.

The writer of Ecclesiastes declared, “There is a time for everything, and a season for every activity under heaven: a time to be born and a time to die” (Ecclesiastes 3:1-2).

Several years ago a university student asked me what was the greatest surprise of my life, and I replied, “Its brevity.”

And today in our world we need a moral dimension more than ever. Without it, the 21st century could become the bloodiest century in the history of the human race. It could be the last century. But it does not need to be this way.

Wernher von Braun said, “It has frequently been stated that scientific enlightenment and religious belief are incompatible. [But] technology and ethics are sisters.”

Blaise Pascal has been called one of the architects of modern civilization. He was a brilliant scientist at the frontiers of mathematics, even when he was a teenager. He is viewed by many as the founder of the probability theory and as the creator of the first digital calculator.

Pascal explored in depth our dilemmas of human evil, human suffering and death. People can achieve extraordinary heights in science, the arts and human enterprise. Yet people also are full of anger, hypocrisy and self-hatred. Pascal saw this as a remarkable mixture of genius and self-delusion.

On November 23, 1654, Pascal had a profound religious experience. He wrote these words: “May I never be separated from Him. … Total and sweet renunciation. Total submission to Jesus Christ. Eternally in joy.”(13)

Pascal came to believe that only the love and the grace of God could bring us back into harmony with God. Pascal experienced it in a way that went beyond scientific observation and reason. It was he who wrote the words that are now well-known: “The heart has its reasons, of which reason knows nothing.”

For Pascal, scientific knowledge paled beside knowledge of God. When Pascal died at age 39, he was ready to face God.

King David lived to be 70 years old; yet he too had to face death: “Even though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil, for you are with me” (Ps. 23:4). This was David’s answer to the three dilemmas of human evil, human suffering and death.

It can be your answer as well as you seek the living God and allow Him to fill your life and give you hope for the future.

You Are Not Alone

“No, despite all these things, overwhelming victory is ours through Christ, who loved us. And I am convinced that nothing can ever separate us from God’s love. Neither death nor life, neither angels nor demons, neither our fears for today nor our worries about tomorrow—not even the powers of hell can separate us from God’s love. No power in the sky above or in the earth below—indeed, nothing in all creation will ever be able to separate us from the love of God that is revealed in Christ Jesus our Lord.” Romans 8:37-39 NLT

Thoughts for Today

If you are recently widowed, you might be finding it almost impossible to move beyond the mourning period, especially if your marriage was a long and fulfilling one. Beginning each new day may seem like an overwhelming task. The loneliness may seem unbearable at times.

It is important to remember that you are never really alone. God is there with you. Nothing can separate you from his love. Open your heart to Jesus. Let him love you and fill you with his peace. Your new road may still be difficult, but with Jesus it will be possible.

Consider this …

God can make this a time of growth and renewed intimacy with him—if you want him to. But you have a choice. As time moves on, you can choose to dwell on your loss and on what might have been. Or you can choose life … appreciating the time you had with your spouse, but beginning to move on, praising God for the many blessings you still have. And remember that the Lord isn’t finished with you. Choose to rise each morning, asking him to help you accomplish the purpose of that day’s journey.

Even with positive choices, recovery will take time.

Learn to take one step at a time, trusting Jesus and basking in his comfort and love.

Prayer

Father, I thank you so much that I can trust in your presence and your love. I need your help to get through this. I take great comfort in your promise that nothing can separate me from your love. In Jesus’ name …

OLD AGE. IT IS NOT SOMETHING our generation likes to talk about very much, at least not in realistic categories.

We talk about preparing for retirement, but only with the greatest reluctance do we prepare for infirmity and death. Very few talk about these matters openly and frankly—without, on the one hand, dwelling on them (which shows they are frightened by them), or, on the other hand, suppressing them (which again shows they are frightened by them).

It is much more responsible to learn how to age faithfully, to learn how to die well.

This the psalmist wanted. “Do not cast me away when I am old; do not forsake me when my strength is gone.… Even when I am old and gray, do not forsake me, O God, till I declare your power to the next generation, your might to all who are to come” (Ps. 71:9, 18). From his youth, he knew, God had taught him (Ps. 71:17). Now he prays against abandonment in old age.

At one level, the psalmist is primarily asking that God will protect him against outside attacks when he is too old and infirm to resist (Ps. 71:10ff.). This would be a special concern if the author of this particular psalm is David or some other Davidic king. A nearby nation that would not dare attack Israel when David was forty might be emboldened when David was pushing seventy. Though most of us are not kings, it is right and good to ask God for special protection when we grow so elderly and infirm that it is easy for others to take advantage of us.

But David’s vision is more comprehensive than mere protection.

He wants so to live in old age that he passes on his witness to the next generation. His aim is not to live comfortably in retirement, but to use his senior years “to declare your power to the next generation, your might to all who are to come.” That is a prayer eminently worth praying.

Should not senior saints be praying for grace to pass on what they have learned to a new generation? Perhaps this will be one on one, or in small groups. Perhaps one of them will take under his or her wing some young Christian or abandoned waif. Perhaps some experienced prayer warrior will teach a young Christian leader how to pray.

And when there is too little strength even for these things, we shall pray that God’s grace will so operate in our weakness that God will be glorified in us: perhaps we shall teach younger Christians how to persevere under suffering, how to trust in the midst of pain, and how to die in the grace of God.